It had been a little over a week since Kushina deserted and destroyed the village.
Jiraiya hadn't had a peaceful night since. Sleep, when it came, was shallow and haunted by the same repeating images- smoke curling over broken rooftops, the dull red glow of dying fires, and the faces of the dead staring at him from the shadows.
From rescuing survivors, reorganizing what was left of their shinobi force, contacting those who had been outside the village during the attack, arranging housing, water, and food for the refugees, dealing with grieving jōnin and distraught clan leaders… the list was endless, and every task was urgent. He hadn't had a moment to himself.
Truly, the title of Hokage was heavy. As a relatively carefree person, he had never felt the weight of protecting so many people's lives.
But he could not back down- he wouldn't, no matter what.
These people depended on him now. He had already failed them once by not stopping Kushina before it was too late. If he failed again… he didn't know if he could forgive himself.
Most of the village was gone. The damage was worst in the heart of Konoha, where streets that had once been alive with merchants, shinobi, and children's laughter were now nothing but blackened rubble. A few sections on the outskirts still stood, but even there, the smell of smoke lingered. It seemed that the explosive tags had been placed to hit the oldest and most central buildings- the beating heart of the village. And those were nearly all destroyed.
Rebuilding was the immediate priority, but there was a problem: they didn't have enough workers. The civilians capable of construction were either dead or too injured to help. The few skilled builders they had left were already stretched thin. Jiraiya had sent a desperate request to the Land of Fire's Daimyō for outside help, but even if the aid was approved immediately, it would take time for them to arrive.
In the meantime, shinobi were using Earth Style techniques to raise crude shelters. They weren't pretty, but they kept the rain out and the wind at bay. It was all they could do.
But all of this was trivial compared to the danger pressing in from outside
The Second Shinobi World War was still raging. Only a week ago, Konoha had been on the winning side..
They had been in a position to force a favorable end to the war within a year, maybe less.
Now, though... every other village could smell the blood in the water.
Jiraiya had no choice but to recall all active shinobi back to Konoha. It didn't matter how many enemy soldiers they killed on the front lines- the village itself was too vulnerable. If they spread their forces thin, they could be overrun. Better to hunker down and defend what was left. Much better than wasting lives in a hopeless war.
The cost of this decision was high. Much of the Land of Fire was now undefended, its towns and border posts left to fend for themselves. Bandits, enemy scouts, and opportunistic smaller villages would take advantage.
But oddly enough, Jiraiya wasn't overly worried about the Daimyō's reaction. The feudal lords treated shinobi wars almost like games of prestige and influence- bloody, yes, but never too significant. Allies and enemies in one war might be partners in trade the next year. At worst, the other villages would demand resources or territory as part of a new treaty. Konoha would have to pay that price.
The door to his makeshift office creaked open. Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzō Shimura stepped inside.
Danzō was in worse shape than Jiraiya had ever seen him. His face was swathed in fresh bandages, and his movements were stiff. He looked… smaller somehow, his presence diminished by his injuries. Jiraiya had heard the story- Danzō had been standing next to one of the explosive tags when it detonated. Even an elite jōnin, someone with reflexes honed through decades of battle, couldn't escape an attack like that point-blank. The blast had shredded flesh and scorched skin, leaving him partially disfigured. Unlucky.
"Status?" Hiruzen asked without preamble. His voice was low, heavy with exhaustion.
These days, the three of them rarely spoke without that same somber expression on their faces. Even Danzō, whose heart was a fortress of pragmatism, had loved the village in his own way. None of them had wanted to see it reduced to ash.
"Still not good," Jiraiya said, staring down at his hands before looking back up. "We can start rebuilding soon… but our future is gone. Outside of our top-tier fighters, like me, you, Orochimaru, Tsunade, and Sakumo, we're weaker than Amegakure right now."
The words seemed to hit Hiruzen and Danzō like a physical blow. They had both known it, but hearing it aloud made the truth sharper, more real. Konoha once stood above all the other villages, their superiority assured, but now they can't even maintain their position among the five. Everything ruined in one night...
"Just what was Kushina thinking…?" Jiraiya muttered under his breath.
"I… mishandled her situation," Hiruzen admitted, his voice tinged with guilt.
"I told you," Danzō cut in immediately. "You should've let me handle the jinchūriki. Now look what's happened."
That sparked something in Hiruzen. "This is your fault too! If you hadn't exposed her status, things could have been different!" His voice rose with every word. "If Konoha didn't need your strength right now, I would strip you of every privilege you hold."
Danzō gave a rueful chuckle. "You haven't changed. Always ready to blame me- but I didn't see you stop me either, did I? No ANBU, no countermeasures. You just let it happen."
"Enough," Jiraiya snapped, his voice cutting through the argument. "We don't have time for this. We need to focus on the crisis in front of us."
He turned to Hiruzen. "What about the clan leaders?"
Hiruzen cleared his throat. "Most are willing to cooperate. Many of their people died in the explosion, so they have no choice but to rely on the village for protection. Without Konoha, their kekkei genkai and secret techniques would be stolen before they could regroup." He hesitated before adding, "The only problem is the Uchiha. They're demanding revenge, and… their young clan head awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan."
All three men went still. The Mangekyō was a fearsome weapon, but perhaps more dangerous than its power was the arrogance it tended to foster in its wielder. That wouldn't be easy to deal with.
"We should move against them immediately," Danzō said without hesitation.
"Danzō, you ignorant fool!" Hiruzen shot back. "We need the Uchiha now more than ever. Without them, we'd be finished."
Maybe at some point Hiruzen would've agreed, but not when the village lacks so much manpower.
For once, Danzō had no rebuttal. Even he can acknowledge their worth right now.
"I agree with Hiruzen-sensei, they're essential," Jiraiya said, his tone final. "Arrange a meeting. Make it clear that the other clans have already accepted my leadership and that we can't afford infighting. If that doesn't work…" His gaze sharpened. "Hiruzen-sensei, you'll spar their leader. The Uchiha at least respect strength. If they won't listen, we'll show them the Mangekyō is not invincible."
----
Far from Konoha, in a mountain-ringed office deep within Iwagakure, a short man in his mid-thirties sat behind a cluttered desk. His black eyes were sharp despite the lines of irritation etched into his face. His nose was very odd- it was large and red.
Ōnoki, the Third Tsuchikage, was reading through reports on his desk. He had sent scouts to Konoha.
A week ago, all communication with his spies in Konoha had gone silent. Then, Konoha's troops had withdrawn from the front, allowing Iwagakure forces to advance farther than ever before. At first, he'd suspected a trap- some kind of risky feint to lure them into overextension. But the days had passed without retaliation, and there had been no sign of an ambush. It's like they've just given up all of a sudden.
Now, the latest report lay open before him, and even he had to pause to read it twice.
"Konoha… destroyed?" he murmured, almost disbelieving the words.
It was unthinkable. Konoha had been the great pillar of shinobi power since the end of the Warring States era. Even if they lost a battle, their strength and resources had always ensured recovery. For them to fall so suddenly…
The cause was still unverified, but that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was the opportunity. He couldn't call himself the Tsuchikage if he didn't take advantage of it.
He leaned back in his chair, a slow, calculating smile tugging at his lips.
"Call Kitsuchi here immediately," he ordered the ANBU waiting by the door.
All across the other Great Villages, similar scenes were unfolding- meetings in shadowed rooms, strategies whispered over maps, hands moving small carved figurines across the great gameboard of the shinobi world.
A storm was approaching Konoha.